A stitch in Time
by TheRedhood908
Summary: Enter Harry Potter, a new addition to the year 1946. Brother of Fleamont Potter with mysterious origins who warrants the affection of three different women, one human and the other two something more. This is the kind of situation that can be found, in the twilight zone.
1. Chapter 1

Minerva McGonagall was confused and for the sixth year Gryffindor prefect that was never a good thing. Confusion just wasn't something the girl was used to. She usually caught onto everything put before her immediately, part of growing up a McGonagall. But Harry Potter was a conundrum she didn't think even she could solve. She watched the black haired teen laugh, slapping Fleamont Potter, his supposed "brother" on the back. "Never heard of Fleamont having a brother" came the soft reply of the of Augusta Carver, soon to be Longbottom. There was a wistful look on her face as she watched the young man.

"Augusta!", Minerva said aghast. "You are going to be married in less than two months when the term ends" she chastised. "It simply isn't respectful to ogle another man" she said but couldn't help but bite back the deep thoughts within her own mind. Harry Potter was possibly the most handsome man she had ever met. She shook her head, brushing the thoughts away and turning back to the knowingly smiling Augusta. "Ohh relax Minerva. There is not a single problem with me looking, just as long as I'm not touching" she teased, patting her friend on the shoulder. "As for you though, you're unattached. Why don't you go for , and by that I mean the one not engaged to Euphenia Crawford" she teased, having a feeling that Minerva already liked the new addition to the Potter family.

"After all, YOU'VE been ogling him this entire meal like he was the sexiest man on the face of the Earth" she added, making sure to nudge Minerva in the side teasingly. Minerva just frowned, her face contorting her beautiful face into a tight disapproval. "Firstly, I was not ogling him. I am concerned for Fleamont. He is my friend after all. His brother, supposedly educated at Durmstrang for the past six years, coming home just now to finish his education. You realize Grindelwald is still around correct? What if he's a dark wizard who's tricked the Potters?" She asked, casting another dark glance towards the two boys, laughing and enjoying themselves openly.

Augusta simply arches an eyebrow. "Ohh yes Minerva. The man who looks exactly like every other Potter is really a dark wizard. His plan is to make Fleamont laugh himself to death. Honestly I've never seen Fleamont have so much fun in his entire life. He's always been so serious. Harry is good for him. Doesn't exactly square up to your theory that he's a dark wizard with the intent of killing his supposed brother" she says before smirking. "Unless you're just anti-fun Minerva" she says as if she was daring her best friend, a knowing smirk on her face as she inspected her nails. Minerva just frowned more. "I'm not anti-fun Augusta. I just happen to want to focus on my education. Something you should do with more dedication yourself" she says, once more lecturing her friend.

Augusta didn't take the bait however, and simply smiled once more. "Ten galleons says you won't ask Harry Potter to Hogsmeade" she says simply, reaching down to grasp her goblet of pumpkin juice. Minerva was thrown for a loop."What? Augie you can't be serious!" she exclaimed, using her nickname for her best friend. "Why not? Sharing a drink in Hogsmeade and holding hands is the perfect way to get a bloke to tell you if he's a dark wizard. Aside from that, you haven't been on a date since you went out with that prat Abraxas Malfoy" she said, her hand gently going to her friend's shoulder, knowing how deep of a scar that Abraxas had left. Minerva scowled at her friend before relaxing and soothing herself. She had to acknowledge that Augusta had a point.

If she wanted to learn about what Harry was up to, she would have to get close to him. Plus, she'd be winning ten galleons out of the whole thing, and what was one Hogsmeade weekend anyway?

She downed the rest of her pumpkin juice and stood, looking at her friend. "You're on Augusta. Be ready to lose ten galleons" she said before walking over towards where Harry was sitting, her robes almost billowing out behind her. Augusta just smirked from her position at the table and continued to eat. "Minerva Potter, head of house Gryffindor? Sounds like Sybil Trelawney owes me five knuts" she said with a laugh.

"Harry, you're mad mate. Bleeding mad" came the booming voice of one Fleamont Potter, seventh year Gryffindor. Harry just smirked, his hand going to the goblet of pumpkin juice. "Not mad, but quite sane. Durmstrang is going to win the cup this year. I know every single member of the team. Even if YOU somehow get chosen to be the champion, we'll still lose" Harry said in a faux mocking voice.

Fleamont just rolled his eyes and returned to his meal. "Whatever Harry" he said with a smirk, knowing it wasn't worth it to be baited by his older brother. Come to think of it, Fleamont never had many memories of his older brother. Of course they were there, but not like normal memories. No fights or Christmases spent together, just….foggy reminisces. Regardless though he was ecstatic to have his brother here now. He'd never laughed quite so much in his life and with his upcoming marriage to Euphenia, well, he was just happy to have his brother on hand. Harry must've noticed how deep in thought his brother was and he smiled, shaking Fleamont out of his thoughts.

"Thinking about Euphenia again, eh Fleamont?" He asked, his eyes pointedly moving to the blonde haired girl sitting down the table, eating with her friends. She really was pretty, with a cute nose and Quidditch toned frame. "I think maybe it's a good thing they let girls play quidditch. Does wonders for their bodies. But then again you know that already don't you Flea?" Harry asked, ruffling the palm of his hand into his brothers hair. "Ahh come on Harry" came the protests as his face lit up like a Christmas tree light.

"Uhh hmm, excuse me?" Came a soft feminine voice from just behind the two and Harry immediately let his brother go to turn and meet the interruption. Standing before him was probably one of the most beautiful women he had ever met. Her long brown hair was done up into a bun, while her face was drawn into a nervous smile, her eyes focused solely on Harry, those eyes being of the most penetrating brown. Her accent, certainly Scottish , was also a enhancing effect. "Hello Fleamont," she said, casually sparing a glance towards her friend before looking back at Harry. A smile split his face as he stood, slowly, his hand going to take hers as he bowed and pressed a gently and lingering kiss to her knuckles. "Hello Ms. I am Harry Potter. I have not had the opportunity to be introduced to you quite yet" he said to which the girl simply blushed, the smile going from her face in a bit of nervousness.

"Minerva, Minerva McGonagall" she said simply, the smile and be returning to her face instantly. "It is a pleasure to meet you . Fleamont has spoken so highly of you" she said, almost distracted as said brother quirked an eye at the two and smiled. "Yes, I have Harry" he said teasingly, seeing an opportunity to get even with his older brother. Harry simply ignored him, his eyes focused still on Minerva's as he smiled. "Please, call me Harry" he said, nervously letting go of Minerva's hand as he realized it was still in his own. "Then I insist you call me Minerva" she says, causing Fleamont to laugh. "Just call her Minnie Harry, everyone winds up calling our residential bookworm that anyway" he says turning away from the strange acting duo to continue cutting at his steak.

Said bookworm casts a withering glare at the back of his head before blushing and turning back Harry. "yes, well friends call me Minnie" she says as way of explanation. "If that is so I hope you will count me as one of your friends" says Harry, still acting in a courtly manner he learned at Durmstrang. Minerva just continued to blush and look on, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Well I'm sure you will Harry" she said before casting her eyes to the goblet, sitting in the middle of the hall. "Did you enter your name into the goblet Harry?" She asked as a way of starting a conversation.

Harry smiles and nods. "Yes I did. How about you Minerva? From what I've heard you are the ahlest witch of our generation. Hogwarts would be honored to be represented by you" he says which causes Fleamont to quirk his eyebrow, taking his attention away from his meal, a usually impossible task. Was his brother…..flirting?

If he was it was working. Minerva blushes and shakes her head. "No, I didn't. Much to busy with my work as a prefect. And while the rules may have changed, attitudes have not. Many would not be happy about the idea of a woman representing Hogwarts" she said by way of explanation. "That's a shame" Harry added, "Durmstrang and Beauxbatons both have women entries. However, it is not up to society to change for you Minerva. It is up to you to change society" Harry said gently, hoping he would not offend.

She wasn't offended. Instead quite the opposite. "Fleamont, you didn't tell me your brother was a philosopher" she said teasingly, her eyes remaining on the piercing emerald green of Harry's. "I didn't know I did either" he says with a strange look in his brothers direction. Minerva smiled once more, bracing herself for her question. "Harry, I was perhaps hoping you could accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend. It might be good for someone to show you around and it would be nice to have company that may possibly help with Prefect duties" she asked. Minerva wanted to slap herself in the forehead. Of course she would phrase a date as work. 'Very suave Minerva' she chided herself mentally as Harry smiled at her. "I'd love to Minerva. Fleamont has not yet had the opportunity to show me much aside from where he routinely loses on the Quidditch pitch" he says, causing Minerva to giggle and Fleamont to shout out a quick protest of "hey" .

"Great. Meet you in the common room tomorrow morning?" She asked, trying to be nonchalant. "It's a date" Harry said with a smile, making Minerva go weak in the knees. She smiled nervously, letting out a quick laugh before moving back to her seat next to a beaming Augusta, who slips her something under the table.

Fleamont looks from the blushing and giggling Minerva to the still smiling Harry. "If I didn't know both of you better I'd say you two were already in love. Was I speaking to a future ?" He asked Harry who just responded in the negative. "It's just a Hogsmeade weekend Fleamont. Nothing but a little welcome wagon I would assume" Harry said with a smile, still thinking about Minerva. "Right...welcome wagon come in usual beautiful packages like Minerva McGonagall". Harry just smiled again. "Shut up Flea".

While Harry and Fleamont laughed and Augusta and Minerva giggled one more set of eyes watched one Harry Potter, both with very similar mixes of affection and hunger. Ingrid Greyback was not amused with how close the English girl got to Harry. Her heightened sense of smell certainly didn't help hide the fact that Harry happened to like her too. She almost growled, her fangs close enough to protruding from her jaw at the very thought of Harry touching another woman. Kissing her hand. The other Durmstrang students seated near her backed off, knowing about the beautiful black haired girls secret status as a werewolf. In any event she needed to calm down. Now was not the time to assault a woman over touching her mate, well her soon to be mate anyway. That's why she came to compete. She would win and show Harry just how superior she was to any English tart that threw herself at him.

She smiled tightly and turned back to her meal, eating the steak sprayed out on her plate. She remembered first meeting Harry, years previously during her second year. He'd been the only one to volunteer to be her potions partner. The scared and long werewolf latched onto this show of friendship with all her might, intending to never let him go. Even when she had her time of the month, where the moon would be full and she would turn into the monster she hated, he would be there despite the headmaster's dislike. In fact, even in her werewolf form she had an affinity for her friend. She would lick his hand through the cage and how if he wasn't there. He would usually sleep on a cot next to her cell to keep her relaxed.

She never forgot these kindnesses and made sure the young englishman felt safe and at home in the unforgiving forests of Romania and in the cold halls of Durmstrang. She even had him meet her family, letting his spend the holidays at her family's ancestral home in Wallachia. They too loved him, accepting him as one of their sons. It was soon after that she realized she loved him. For werewolves love was not something to be be scoffed at. In fact, the mere feeling of it is enough to create a bond between two magical beings. She hadn't been able to tell Harry before he left but she had followed him and soon, that would be enough. She would tell him about his newfound obligations to her. She sipped from the strange goblet of what the English called pumpkin juice, resisted the urge to spit it out.

She'd be much happier once they were both back in Romania, sharing a home and a bed. She blushed to herself as she thought this over. How happy her parents would be at the thought of the two of them finally being one. Then her thoughts drifted to the thought of children. Messy haired and rambunctious. Piercing emerald eyes. Of course they'd be werewolves. Then again so would Harry. She would have to turn him. It was only natural and maybe...he would even ask her. She would have to prove it first. Prove that she was an alpha female and worthy of his attention. So far he didn't even know that she was here, at Hogwarts. But that was all about to change and little prefect would be smart to keep her hands off of her mate.


	2. Chapter 2

Th Victoire Rousseau was a woman of exceptional beauty. A beauty that was part gift and part curse. The gift part came in when one asked who wouldn't want to be beautiful? What woman wouldn't want to be envied and cherished? The negative aspect of being a veela came when she realized realized that her beauty was the only reason she was even noticed. At Beauxbatons she found that she had few friends. She even lost all the ones she had once she began to mature and boys looked at her differently. It was as if it was her fault that their boyfriends turned into drooling messes at the mere sight of her.

Even now, sitting alone at the….Ravenclaw table she believed, hostile glances were thrown at her. She sighed, pushing away the plate of English fare she found she could not stomach. How much meat could one truly stomach before feeling that they were out of their mind? If only there was more croissants. Hogwarts had had the decency to put a few French and Romanian dishes out to help their guests feel more at home for the duration of the tournament. If only she could ever feel truly at home. She searched the table with her eyes, roving up and down hoping to find a plate of her favorite delicacies. 'Typical' she thought to herself as her eyes made contact with the smirking Veronique Frazier who had undoubtedly helped her vicious gang scoff them all down before Victoire could have some. She sighed, shaking her head and returning to poking her meal with her fork until she saw the plate of croissants in front of two black haired boys.

"Ohh non" she said aloud at the thought of of asking two drooling males for some croissants. Nevertheless, she got up and walked towards the table, her long robes fluttering out, almost as if they were magically charmed, on her walk to the table. The two boys don't see her at first and she clears her throat. "Excuse moi, but may I have some croissants?" She asks, waiting for the leers and the staring. Both look up and while one is decidedly in awe of her the other just smiles, handing her the plate. "Of course. You can have them. Fleamont and I really aren't too much of a fan" he says with a light laugh. For some reason the sound sends a jolt through her heart. She shakes the thought away and blushes, feeling for the first time that her own veela allure was being used on her.

"Merci" she says as she takes the plate of pastries and scampers off, careful not to give herself away as a strange foreigner. However, she can't help but ask another Hogwarts student who that was when she returns to her table. She believed the Ravenclaw's name was Pomfrey? A smart but mousy girl. "Excuse moi, but who iz zat boy over at ze Gryffindor table?" She asks, cursing herself for her pronounced accent. It only came on when she was nervous. The girl just smiled and blushed, barely able to contain her giggles. "That's Harry Potter with his brother Fleamont. Isn't he the best? I saw Minerva McGonagall talking to him. It looked like she asked him to Hogsmeade. I wish I had the guts to ask Harry to Hogsmeade" she said sadly in a tone that suggested the mousy girl felt she didn't have a chance anyway.

Victoire however, had to fight off numerous different emotions. For some strange reason she couldn't keep her eyes off of the dark haired emerald eyed boy who quietly slapped his brother in the back of the head for ogling her as she walked away. He wasn't affected by her allure. He wasn't a drooling mess. The second thought she had was of anger. Another girl already asked him out? Non, this would not do. The first man to not ogle her like a piece of meat was not going to fall into the lap of some English witch.

She had asked poppy to point out which one was Minerva Mcgonagall and the younger student did so with a jealousy that was almost mirrored inside of Victoire. "But then again I suppose she deserves it. Rumor has it that she wasn't treated as nicely as she should've been by Abraxas Malfoy" she says with a sad nod. Poppy pointed out he tall and blonde haired man sitting at the Slytherin table in question, an arrogant smile on his face that spoke of his purebred status. "Minerva was smitten with him. She was even expecting a marriage contract" Poppy continued in a whisper. "that's why she made love to him. She wanted to ensure it but ….well Malfoy isn't marrying her. He's marrying Druella Bulstrode" she said sadly. She looked at the smiling and giggling Minerva, sitting next to her friend Augusta, and found that she felt pity for the young witch. But not enough pity. Suddenly she was very happy to be sitting next to the school gossip. She turned to her newfound friend and smiled, putting an arm around the shy girls shoulders. "Poppy, tell me everyzing about Monsieur Harry Potter".

"So he said yes then?" Came the voice of Augusta as Minerva came back to her seat, all beaming smile and blush. "Of course he did. Soon I'll know everything about the lad" she said gently, sitting down and pretending that it had all been a clever act. "Right. You'll know everything. If he's a dark wizard, what kind of undies he wears, where he liked to kiss and grope a woman" she teases her friend who simply blushes and scowls at the same time, a rather cute expression if Augusta said so herself. "This is not a date. No matter how much Mr Potter may think so. I'm doing this for Fleamont. " She said, her own mind betraying the lie in her statement.

"Right so the giggle and blush are all just for show? Bravo Minerva, you might be the greatest actress to ever live" she said teasingly as she returned to her meal. Minerva however, didn't respond, and just returned to eating her meal. 'Augie doesn't know what she's talking about. But….well Harry is cute and nice and he doesn't strike me as someone who would get along with Abraxas' she thought, the mere name sending her into a sad loop. She thought he loved her, but she was nothing more than his plaything, meant only for his amusement before being cast to the side. It was all she could do to stop her father from declaring a blood feud with the Malfoy's. It still hurt and deep down she didn't trust any man. But for some reason Harry made her feel…..safe. Maybe it was the way looked her in the eyes the entire conversation. Maybe it was just how he wasn't afraid to speak his mind, his comment on it being her responsibility to change society coming to mind.

Harry was…..different and that wasn't a good start to her idea that he was a dark lord in the making. Maybe, and just maybe, she would enjoy her date...well it was a date she had told herself after a few moments of mental gymnastics. At least Harry thought so, so it might as well be one. "I'm going " she says quietly as she takes out a quill and writes her name on a piece of paper , while Augusta simply looks at her. "Enter what?" She asks curiously before Minerva just gestures at the giblet and stands, walking eagerly over to the enchanted cup and reaching up to deposit her name.

Augusta just smiles as numerous others ohh and ahh at the thought of Minerva entering the competition. 'My, my, my Mr. Potter" Augusta says to herself. "Already having a positive affect on my best friend"

"I'm telling you Harry, Minerva has a thing for you but, be careful huh?" Fleamont said to Harry on their way back to the Gryffindor common room. "Not saying I wouldn't but why so?" Harry asked, stopping his brother, now wanting the full story. "Abraxas Malfoy" he said simply by way of explanation. "Prat wooed her, used her and dumped her. This was two years ago. Surprised Minnie has gotten over it this soon with how distraught she was but I'm glad she is. Harry if you hurt her, I'll have to hurt you" Fleamont said, being completely serious. "We have always looked out for each other. If it wasn't for Euphenia I would have asked father to draw up a proposal contract between us and the McGonagall's" he says with a wistful sigh.

Harry just places a hand on his shoulder and smiles at his younger brother, genuinely touched by the care he exhibits for a housemate. "I promise Flea, nothing will happen. It's just a friendly meeting. Nothing more" he says with gentle squeeze of his shoulder before walking off towards the Gryffindor common room entrance, leaving Fleamont to jog to catch up to him, the exertion of climbing the stairs mixed with his new exercise not helping him catch his breath. "Bloody hell mate. Why are you so fast?" He asks before Harry laughs aloud. "Gotta be quick in Durmstrang. Unlike at Hogwarts we have rules about being late to class"

"How right you are Harry" comes a teasing feminine voice from the shadows. The voice came unexpectedly and Fleamont looks towards the left wing and sees a woman approach wearing dark robes. Her hair is the color of night and her eyes are a piercing yellow, unusual for a witch, or anybody for that matter. Her bangs cover a good amount of her face but Fleamont can tell that she is looking almost predatorily at his brother. It occurs to him quickly as he jumps in front of of his brother, drawing his wand. "Harry it's a werewolf. Should've known Durmstrang would have some" he said before turning back to the unexpected visitor who smiles at his quick reaction. "I'm glad you have such defensive family Harry but surely young Fleamont knows that it'll take more than _lumos_ to repeal a werewolf" she says, her hand coming up to her mouth to suppress a laugh.

"Hey, I'm only one year younger than Harry and I know plenty of spells besides _lumos"_ he says defensively, causing both Harry and the girl to laugh. "It's okay Flea, this is my friend Ingrid" he says as he lowers Fleamont's wand with his hand and steps forward. Before Harry can move one more step the girl throws herself at Harry, her arms wrapping around his waist as she nuzzles him, the most common sign of werewolf affection. "I missed you Harry" she says honestly, the young man wrapping his arms around her shoulders and spinning her around, smiling as she squeals in delight, before setting her down and kissing her on the forehead. "I missed you too Ingrid. Why are you here though?" He asks before realizing how rude the question sounded.

"Not that I'm not happy you are, I guess I'm just curious. You didn't write to tell me you'd be here" he says as he looks her up and down. "You've grown an inch or two but you're still shorter than me" he says with a laugh to which the shorter girl faux scowls and stamps her foot. Even Fleamont can't help the smile that breaks onto his face. She may be a dangerous creature of the night, but she was cute and seemed to be a good friend of Harry's.

She smiled and gently cupped Harry's chin, inspecting each side of his face. "You shaved" she says simply with a frown. "I don't like it" she says to which Harry nods, bowing slightly. "Then I will regret it my lady but first why are you here?" He asks again, his hands going to her shoulders. "To compete of course. Bring honor to Durmstrang and to let my best friend know that I'm the best" she said teasingly as she held his hand. Fleamont's eyes go wide as he realizes it. "Oh no" he thinks to himself. "She's got it bad for Harry too" he says his kind instantly worrying over the thought of werewolf nieces and nephews and a werewolf sister in law.

Before Harry can answer Fleamont yawns and puts his hand on Harry's shoulder. "We better get going Harry. Don't want to be caught out here after curfew" he says, pulling his older brother along and up the stairs, Ingrid becoming a fading figure in the background. She waves to Harry and even blows him a kiss, but it's taken as no more than teasing by the young man it was intended for. "We'll be seeing each other more Harry. Goodnight" she says, slip king back into the shadows and leaving the Potter brothers to continue their walk. "What was that about Flea? You were very rude to Ingrid" he says, angrily turning on his brother who puts his hands up almost as if in self defense.

"Werewolves are bad news Harry and for some reason that one strikes me as especially so" he says in way of explanation. Harry just rolls his eyes and continues to walk up the flights of stairs. "Never took you for a bigot Flea. Found out something disappointing today" he says before allowing his brother a chance to respond. "Harry wait that's not it at all" says Fleamont as he Chases after his thoroughly angry brother. The exchange does not go unseen and Ingrid has to restrain her snarl from the shadows.

"How dare he" she says, her claws coming out as she thinks of how Fleamont dragged Harry away from her and talked about her as if she was an animal. She calmed herself down though, as quickly as possible. Harry's had always taught her the importance of being calm, of being reasonable. Fleamont didn't know her beyond what his brother had told him so it would be natural for him to be protective of his brother. She would be protective of her siblings in the same situation. This is what she told herself as she walked out of the castle and back to the Durmstrang ship. Her thoughts turned to more pleasant things like how Harry's hands had felt on her body. She shivered at the thought of what such hands could do in other situations, where it was just them and them alone.

She quickly cooled herself however. It wasn't good for a werewolf to get aroused in the open. She would wait until returning to the ship to let her thoughts run wild. But she would be damned if Harry didn't take her soon. She was getting tired of dreaming of making love to him, only to wake up and realize she still didn't have him. "soon" she said simply to herself as she crossed the bridge to move towards the lake. "Soon".


	3. Chapter 3

Minerva was nervous. After all it had been a long time since she went out on a date, and to her there was no really doubting that this is what this was. She knew Harry wasn't a dark wizard bent on killing Fleamont. It didn't make sense, at least not if that were the conclusion she were to draw. But something was odd. She had never heard of Harry before. Not even Fleamont had said anything about him in their six years as classmates. Then again it was not unusual for families to send one of their children abroad. But wouldn't she have known about Harry? It wasn't as if he was a disappointment. Why would his parents have sent him away?

Her thoughts are interrupted however, the sound of shoes stepping on the cobblestone of Hogwarts outer bailey as students exit the school, making their way to the town of Hogsmeade for their recreational activities. Some were couples, happily smiling with arms linked as they walked while others were with groups of friends. Augusta passed by with Longbottom and shot her a smile before returning her attention to the man whose arm was around hers. Minerva smiled back at her and nodded, happy for her friend but feeling a deep loneliness. It was hard to see every one of her friends couple off and leave her. After all, the future had to be prepared for and it was the perfect time for them to all get engaged. But Minerva was not so privileged as to have had someone offer a contract for her hand. The twentieth century it may be but that was still how things were done.

Two years ago she was sure that she would become the lady Malfoy, having fallen under the influence of Abraxas Malfoy's silver tongue. It almost brought tears to her eyes as she remembered how he would caress her and whisper that he loved her. It was the only reason she had given herself to him. She had loved him more than anything else.

It was all a lie. His gentle touches and his sweet whispers. He got what he had wanted and in the process destroyed Minerva. She remembered the day she had walked up to him in the library, the day after she had made love to him in the astronomy tower. She thought it was all but assured that she was his and he hers, so thought nothing of walking up to him and kissing his cheek. What followed, was something she wished she could forget. Bulstrode walked right up to her and struck her, demanding that she keep her hands off of her fiance. Minerva was too shocked to do anything and when Abraxas placed his arms around Bulstrode's waist she panicked and fled.

It was all a joke and everyone knew. Slytherin had pulled one over on the Gryffindors and she was never more ashamed as she was then. Her housemates were sympathetic but many had warned her about the dangers of being with such a man as Abraxas.

She sighed as she leaned against the plastered wall and reminded herself off the mistake she had made. To all others she was soiled and used, not a candidate for a pureblood marriage. The double standard was appalling but it was however there.

"Ahh Minerva, so good to see you" comes a voice from her nightmares as she turns to see the very man her thoughts had just turned to standing behind her. Abraxas Malfoy was always impeccable in his attire and the arrogance never left his face, his blonde hair going down to his shoulders as he eyed the Scottish girl. "Just the woman I was looking for. I was hoping you would accompany me to Hogsmeade" he says simply.

Minerva is beyond words and rage soon fills her entire being. "How dare you approach me!" She says, going for her wand to hex him. He however, is quicker and he pins her against the wall, his hand closing around hers, preventing her movement. "Now, now my dear. That is not a warranted reaction. After all what have I done to deserve your scorn?" He asks teasingly, an arched eyebrow curving perfectly as he stares her down.

"You used me. Made me seem like a wanton slut. You made me love you and betrayed me!" She says, an urge to scream for help bubbling up in her chest but her pride unwilling to allow it.

"Ohh that? Surely you cannot be so angry over a few false words? You knew we would never be a good match. Your mistake was in believing me after all. I am blameless. As for you being a slut, well you are. Which brings me to why I wish for you to accompany me" he says, licking his lips lavisciously as he eyes her.

She wants to throw up, hating how the memories of his touch bubble up to the forefront of her mind and she readies herself to retort when another voice is heard. "May I ask why you are accosting my date Heir Malfoy?" Comes the stone hard voice of Harry Potter, who is standing right behind the blonde haired man, his wand drawn and poking into his back.

Abraxas turns. Slowly. His hands fall from Minerva as he realizes that he is not in a good position. After all while empty now, they were in an open courtyard. If the new Potter could see them others might. "Nothing at all Mr. Potter. Just speaking with an old friend" he says, engaging his charming smile on the man as he hopes to win over another friend. That was the Malfoy way. Always angle for influence and Harry had been educated at Durmstrang according to Abraxas' Intel. He would undoubtedly be a pureblood man with all the attitudes that would imply.

"It appears we both know each other but have never been introduced" the blonde man says as he turns and bows, ignoring the wand still pointed at him. "Abraxas Malfoy. At your service my friend." He says to which Harry responds coldly and simply. "Harry Potter. And we are not friends" his wand falls however and he smiles lightly at Minerva.

The mans smirk is barely shaken but he is noticeably put off by the rather rude reply. "That is true at the moment however, we can be very good friends . We have much in common after all. And Hogwarts lasts only so long. Who knows how we could help each other afterwards? Business is business after all".

Harry simply looks at the man, his eyes narrowed. "Between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin? I hardly doubt that is possible. Now if you do not mind I have a date with the beautiful woman you are accosting" he says to which Minerva cannot help but blush heavily, still in her position of back against the wall. Did Harry really think she was beautiful?

"Her? Ohh Harry dear friend" Abraxas says looking over his shoulder at Minerva. "There are much better women out there Harry. Richer and prettier. She is much too independent. I even heard she entered into the triwizard tournament. Most unbecoming for a pureblood woman hoping to become a lady. She is a wanton slut you should ignore. My sister perhaps you've heard of her? Alaconia Malfoy? She is quite fetching and an alliance between our houses would be beneficial to both families" he says, continuing but Harry cuts him off.

"I am not interested in your sister and I am most certainly not interested in your friendship. As for wealth, I can make my own. And prettier? I highly doubt it. As for her independence I find it rather endearing. A woman who can tell me where to shove it when I'm being a ponce is most certainly much more attractive than whatever trophy you seek for yourself Malfoy. And as for your accusation of her dignity, I can assure you I think no such thing of her. In fact I am rather thankful that you were such a fool hut rather angry that you hurt her. Now, Minerva very well may be the future lady Potter. I wish to waste no more time with you and instead want to explore what the stars have in store for my day with her. Move along" he says simply, dismissing the man with a casualness that made the blonde fume.

He walked around him and smiled at Minerva, turning her insides into mush, especially in conjunction with his defense of her. 'Possible future Lady Potter?' she asks in her mind as he takes her hand in his and wraps his arm around hers. "May we go Minerva? I find your company much more pleasurable than the arrogant git who presumes to speak to his betters" he says to which she is only able to nod. "O-f-f course Harry. We should go" she says, not only wanting to be away from Malfoy but also wanting to be alone with Harry.

He smirks and they are off leaving the other sputtering male behind to shot after him. "You'll regret this Potter. I swear it"

The voice is barely audible as they cross the long stone bridge, Minerva moving even more into Harry's side. "Why did you say I may be the future lady Potter?" She asks seriously, ignoring the butterflies it set to flittering to even think of such an outcome. Harry just blushes and stops, looking down at her. "Well...it most certainly is a possibility. And I really wanted to annoy that prat and I knew that that would annoy him. But...well my parents brought me back here for a few reasons, one of which is to get married so I can assume my position as head of house. It has really peeved them that Fleamont is marrying before me" he says with a snicker as Minerva glares. "So I'm just a way to fulfill your house requirements" she asks to which he stops and places his hands on her waist, keeping her in place.

Minerva can't help but notice that the feeling of his hands on her is different than Lucius. Not controlling or demanding. Rather it is gentle and sweet. "Not at all" he says seriously while looking deeply into her eyes. "But, you are the only real candidate I can see who I think I can fall in love with. After all, you're brave, smart, and very pretty. Fleamont wants me to be with you as well and I have always put much stock in what Flea says to me" he adds with a hearty laugh while Minerva just blushes.

"But...don't you know about what happened between me and Malfoy Harry? I'm stained in everyone's eyes. That's why everyone was so shocked that you were taking me to Hogsmeade. You surely can't see me as anything more than a friend already. It wouldn't be appropriate" she says but is cut off by his lips upon hers, soft and yet firm. She wants to struggle for a moment but soon finds herself sinking into the kiss instead, her arms moving around his shoulders as she feels something she hadn't in a long time. He releases her, all too quickly in her opinion and continues to hold her.

"I do not care about what happened between you and Malfoy. I care that you were hurt but not that what happened happened. You are not stained. You are beautiful and I know it may be hard for you to trust me, especially after I just kissed you like that but I want to see what we are. If it's nothing more than friends I accept that. But if it's more…" he says, trailing off as he strokes the side of her face, "I most certainly don't want to miss it with you. So...will we go to Hogsmeade as friends to see what happens from there? Start all over before I kissed you and made Malfoy believe we were betrothed?" He asks, hoping he hadn't made a mistake.

Minerva sits there, shocked and flabbergasted as she stares up at the man who was destroying every preconceived notion of hers.

"No" she says simply. "Not after you kissed me like that and said those things". Harry's face falls but he nods simply. "I kind of knew I had blown it" he said simply before stepping away and bowing. "I am sorry to have bothered you Minerva" he says and makes to walk back to the castle before she grabs his hand, stopping him.

"You didn't let me finish Harry. I said no I won't go as your friend" she says, her face breaking into a smile as she knew she was making the right decision. "But I will go as your date" she adds to which the man brightens instantly and his arm wraps around hers get again, continuing their walk to the village that lay just over the hill.

"Thanks for giving me a chance Minerva. Even though I'm awful at romance." He says apologetically to which Minerva giggles and lays her head on his shoulder. "To the contrary Harry, you are quite the charmer. And please...call me Minnie"


	4. Chapter 4

Despite what had happened on the bridge, it was not well known around the castle. After all, Malfoy had more tact than to shout out how he had been embarrassed by the elder Potter. So by and large the student body remained ignorant of what had happened on the bridge. All except for two individuals.

Ingrid Greyback and Victoire Rousseau both had been spying on their intended mate, unknown to the other of course.

Both women, were fuming as they hid behind their respective columns and listened in on the confrontation. Both were giddy at the sight of the arrogant man being put in his place, and they couldn't help but watch Harry with a hunger that seemed almost integral to their inhuman natures. However, it was quickly replaced with rage when they saw him link arms with the English tart who had ensnared him before either got a chance to get near to him. Ingrid growled when she saw Minerva and Harry kiss and a spider web of cracks appeared on the pillar that she had placed her hand against.

Victoire's face hardened, her urge to transform into her veela form and incinerate the girl growing more and more by the second. Both calmed down enough however to head back towards the castle before they gave into their darker desires and followed through on the evil thoughts they both had. There was one predominant thought in both of their minds. They would need to plan their approach more carefully.

"Future Lady Potter? Pfft. Non. That will not do. Not Minerva McGonagall" the blonde veela spat the name contemptuously. "Non. The Potter family needs new blood and it will be French" she says to herself as she walks the halls, careful to avoid any other students who may not have gone to Hogsmeade.

"Who does this whore think she is?" asks Ingrid to herself. "Harry is mine. He is the one who stood by me. And he is the one I will stand by. That mouse will not do for my mate. No. He will be mine" she says as she moves back towards the lake, not wanting to be seen by anyone else either.

 _ **Hogsmeade**_

"Harry that is not funny" says Minerva as she desperately fights to hold in her laughter.

He just smiles and nods. "You're right. It isn't funny. I'm more inclined to say it's hilarious. Krum hanging out by his fingers of that tower. Screaming at us to help him as he's dressed on in underwear. Hysterical all in all" he continues, reaching across the table to grasp her hand.

It makes Minerva blush and she can't help but turn her hand to entangle it in his, trying her best to maintain eye contact. She would not have him think she was just a giggling girl who couldn't keep her wits about her because of a random romantic gesture. No. She was a strong and independent woman. That would never change, even if Harry turned her into a pile of goo. "Maybe it is a little funny" she says with an open smile as she stares into Harry's green eyes. It suddenly hits her that no other Potter has the same eye color.

"Harry? Why are your eyes green? I know that's an odd question but none of the other Potters have green eyes. Perhaps a distant ancestor?" She asks to which he shrugs. "I couldn't tell you Minerva but if I knew I would. But the real question is why are you ogling me like that? Do you like me just for my eyes?" He asks teasingly as he leans in and wiggles his eyebrows, sending her into another giggling fit. It was just such an absurd motion for him to make. "And what of it ? Can I not ogle you, as you eloquently put it, any time I want to?" She asks teasingly, deciding to return fire with fire.

"Well I won't lie and pretend I don't relish the thought of being ogled by the most beautiful witch of our age" he says to which she rolls her eyes. "Flatterer. We both know that is not true" he says to which he leans in, all mirth gone from his eyes and replaced by seriousness. "It is to me. I am no liar Minnie" he says, sending her heart pounding against her chest. She was thankful for the first time that there were so many people around. If they were alone she knew she would have thrown herself into his arms and done things no proper girl should. She wasn't ready to trust him. Not like that and not yet. She inwardly sighed as she realized that Malfoy had done so much damage after all.

"I...I believe you. And I am sorry Harry. I wasn't calling you a liar. I just…..well I remember things that Lucius said and I am sorry if I am viewing you through the same lense. You most assuredly don't deserve that"

In response he simply takes her hand and kisses it gently. "Minerva, will you be my girlfriend? I know it's only been one date but...I want to further explore what we have here" he asks to which the Scottish witch can't help but falter. On one hand she wanted to be his girlfriend. She wanted to be so much more to him. But on the other, he had just come here. He didn't know any of the other women. He hadn't had any real experience with her or others. She was tainted in the eyes of the school to boot. How could she say yes to that? Not to mention her fears of being used once more, although her heart, her treacherous sadistic heart, tells her that Harry will be different.

"No Harry. Not yet. You….well you may like me, yes but what if it's not more than friends? You haven't been here long enough and we most certainly haven't known each other long enough. It wouldn't be fair to you Harry" she says simply as she caresses his hand, still entwined with hers.

He is silent for a moment but before long he nods. "You make many fair points Minerva. You're very rational. Let me ask another question. May we go out on more dates to get closer to a point where you may answer yes to my previous question?"

Minerva blushes, a little surprised by his perseverance. It wasn't often that pure blooded men were fine with being told no.

"O..of course Harry. But don't be afraid to get to know other women here at Hogwarts. I don't want you to miss out on who you're really meant to be with" she says, hiding her own insecurities.

Harry nods, a light smile playing on his lips. "I will win you Minerva McGonagall. And I intend to keep you when I do" he says, having leaned in so that he was practically whispering against her ear, his breath tickling her skin. She lets out an involuntary shiver, her hand going to his shoulder to push him away, lest she take her original answer back. "Well, be that as it may Harry, you will always be able to count me as your friend" she says with a smile. "Now, be a good date and take me back to the castle".

 _ **Courtyard**_

Ingrid growled again as she say Harry escort Minerva into the open space before the opening onto the great Hall. It was all wrong. He was not supposed to be walking hand in hand with her. These memories were not the Scottish witch's to have. These were supposed to be hers. Stories to tell her cubs when they wanted to know about her school days. She was supposed to tell them that their father had eyes for her and only for her and of how he was besotted with her. She was supposed to tell them that she resisted their father, although that wouldn't be even near to the truth, and eventually caved into his demands for a date.

This was how she saw it unfolding and it was certainly not how things were going.

Luckily for her Minerva rushes off into the castle, having told Harry she needed to meet with Augusta Longbottom. Before she went she kissed Harry passionately, her hands on his robes before she lets him go and a startled Harry quickly comes back to his senses. "I thought you said you weren't my girlfriend?" He teases hopefully to which she smiles. "I am not…..as of right now. That doesn't mean I can't kiss you. Now go make new friends, meet other girls and see me when you know I'm the one for you" she says teasingly before heading off in that direction.

Harry continues to stand in the empty courtyard, a smile on his lips as his hand moves to his lips where she had kissed him.

Ingrid took the time to steady herself, calming her canine instincts into allowing her to take charge as a woman rather than werewolf. 'it'll be much easier to speak to Harry without growling' she says to herself before walking up to the young man and tapping him on the shoulder. "Hello Harry" she whispers into his ear, standing on her tippy toes to reach him, causing the young man to whirl around, ready for a fight.

His eyes soften as they fall on Ingrid and he can't help but roll his eyes. "Ingrid, I'm going to put a bell on you. You're always sneaking up on me" he says chidingly to which she smiles and throws her arms around his shoulders, moving so that they are very close. "Hmm, you smell of McGonagall" she says, her nose now turned up as she gets the scent of the girl off of him. She hoped, desperately hoped, that they hadn't gone farther than kissing.

"Well yes, I have spent most of the day with her" he says, for the first time feeling uncomfortable about their close proximity. Why did it seem so strange to him all of the sudden? She was always very affectionate with him when they were studying at Durmstrang and always more flirtatious than anyone else, especially when it came to him. No other wasn't strange. He was just dealing with Minerva now. He was uncomfortable because he didn't want to seem like he was betraying her, which he wasn't even if he was because they weren't dating.

'This situation is completely strange' Harry thought to himself, his hands on Ingrid's waist.

"You know Harry, I wonder why you never took me out when we were at Durmstrang. We would have had a very fun time. And if you had asked me to be your girlfriend I most certainly would have said yes. All the...privileges included of course" she whispers, her breath tickling against his skin. Harry can't suppress the shiver that involuntarily shakes his frame and he looks down at the dark haired girl. "Well, we, uh, we hung out all the time and I consider you my best friend Ingrid" he says, not knowing what to say as the girl he once thought he knew perfectly comes onto him.

"And where is this all coming on from? How did you know Minerva said she wouldn't be my girlfriend?" He asks, his eyes narrowly as he gently pushes the girl back, gently but firmly. She is off put by his reaction but hides it well, instead smiling gently up at Harry. "Well, I was in the courtyard and I heard what she said before putting two and two together. She turned you down. As for where this is coming from, well it's always been there Harry" she says, her hand moving to his face. "I just never had to worry about anyone else taking what was mine. Everyone at Durmstrang knew you were mine so all those chits stayed away. But I realize now that was selfish Harry. I don't want to be with you on my terms anymore. I want it to be on your terms. I love you Harry Potter" she says before leaning in, her considerable strength able to push her past the young man's hold, before she wraps her arms around his shoulders and kisses him, her tongue moving in to gently explore his mouth.

Harry is once again, shocked, and he stands there, his arms splayed to either side, before he closes his eyes and returns the kiss. Ingrid tasted like nothing else and he wanted to savor it. Until images of a certain Scottish witch entered back into his mind. He pushes Ingrid away, ignoring the scowl on her face as he blushes wildly.

"Ingrid….we shouldn't… do this. I'm sorry but I don't feel the same way" he says not wanting to upset or hurt her but seeing no other way but to tell the truth.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips curl. "And why is that Harry? Because I am a werewolf? Is that it?" She asks to which he quickly shakes his head. "Not at all Ingrid. You know that doesn't matter to me. It's just…..you're my best friend. You're like a sister to me. I just don't see you that way. And….I think I'm in love with Minerva" he confesses simply.

Ingrid laughs loudly, throwing her head back before looking straight at Harry once more. "You just met her and went out on one date with her. There is no way you love her. Aside from that she told you she doesn't want to be your girlfriend. What more of a message do you need Potter?" she asks to which causes Harry to stop and think clear pain registered on his face. It hurts her, to see him upset that is. But he must be broken of his delusions of being with anyone else other than her. When he accepted that she would make it all better. She would soothe and calm every injury or distress of his. But first she needed him to want to be in her arms. And this nonsense about her being a sister to him? That wouldn't do either. Nobody wanted to snog and make love to their sister and Ingrid knew she was certainly NOT his sister.

"And I am not your sister Potter. Remember that. I am a woman. A woman who clearly wants you, and you alone. Discard that nonsense from your mind instantly" she says before moving in close again, her hands going to Harry's face as she looks up at him. "And yes. We are best friends. We always have been and always will be. But…..the best friends are also the best lovers are they not?" She asks with persistence. Harry however, pushes her back once again gently, making the small werewolf want to howl in rage. She hated being pushed away, especially by him. He was never to push her away.

"Ingrid, I'm sorry. I really am but I have feelings for Minerva and even if I don't know exactly what they are they are there. Yes she said no to being my girlfriend and she even said to see other girls but...she is all I want Ingrid. I'm sorry. I don't know where all these feelings came from but I hate that I can't return them. Trust me, you'll find someone special and when you do you'll never let them go and they'll never let you go. One thing you can count on though is that I will always be your friend" he says with a gentle smile, hoping that that had assuaged the girl.

Ingrid is silent and when she looks up at him he can see that her eyes have shifted. They almost looked predatory. "You listen to me Harry Potter" she says, her voice deeper and more menacing. "You are mine. You are my mate and soon, a day very near, you will be like me. I swear it. I do not want your friendship any longer. You owe me much more than friendship for the way you have made me feel about you. That little mousey English witch is not for you and I will do whatever is necessary to make sure you do not win her. You will be mine Harry" she says before pulling him in for one last foery kiss before storming off, tears threatening to spill forth from her eyes as Harry continues to sit there, hoping that what she said wasn't what she meant.

 _Hey guys, hope this story is okay. Full disclosure I have no idea where I'm going with this. Just shooting from the hip. Let me know what you think._


	5. Chapter 5

(I know I said I wasn't going to be writing anymore Harry Potter fiction but...hey, I guess if I've got nothing better to do haha).

Victoire was bored. Utterly bored. More bored than she'd ever been before, and that was really saying something. She was someone who was used to solitude, not having many friends or family around during the school year. It used to upset her, but now? Not so much. She'd gotten quite used to it. It wasn't strictly true that she didn't have friends, at least not anymore. Poppy Pomfrey had become a close friend and confidant, despite being a year younger.

But the mousey gossip was off in class, transfiguration most likely, and Victoire found herself missing her. 'ohh well, hopefully she'll be done soon' she thought to herself, looking around the library. Mostly empty, except for a few girls sitting on the other end at an oak table, occasionally glaring at her. 'Anozzer satisfied customer' she says to herself, sighing as yet again she has isolated herself from the others with her beauty. It was unfair. To be so judged by something she couldn't control.

The solitude was good for thinking though. Very good for it. Her thoughts ran to Harry Potter. He didn't even know she existed yet. Of course, she hasn't introduced herself and she knew that secretly pining and following him wasn't going to communicate what needed to be said to him. No. She needed to approach him directly, somewhere he would be alone. Without his drooling brother or the English prefect.

That was another problem. McGonagall. It was quite clear to her that Harry was rather...well...besotted with the young witch. The veela could tell. Her kind had a sense for these things after all. That didn't pose too much of a problem...if Harry was a normal man, which appeared to not be the case. After all, a normal man would not be able to speak with her without becoming a mindless idiot. Harry could though, which obviously meant that a pretty face, even a supernaturally pretty one, was not enough to sway him. She'd need to engage him on matters other than looks, to show him that she offered so much more than gorgeous blonde locks and a sexy accent.

'Yes Victoire. Woo him wiz your potion knowledge oui? Nozzing stokes a man's fire more than a woman who knows ze difference between murtlap and yingling weed' she thinks shaking her head in anger. All these years of only being valued for her looks had prepared her to only use them in her search for a mate. She never counted on letting all the other things come out. Her ability to play the piano, her fluency in four languages or her academic skills. How could she emphasize these to him without appearing like a showoff?

"You don't mind if I sit here right? Not really in the mood to sit near a bunch of Slytherins" comes a light and humor laced voice standing just to her right. She turns her head, still from a seated position, and finds herself looking directly at the object of her affections and thoughts, as if she had conjured him up with magic.

"Slytherins? What do you…" she says before turning and looking towards the table where the other girls were. Before it had just been girls, but now? Many of the male Slytherins were there, led by a particular blonde man who stared over at two with hate in his eyes. Classes had undoubtedly let out and despite the fierce and snobby look on the girls faces, she could tell that they were quite put out by the arrival of their male counterparts. If they hadn't been there they would have been happy to let Harry sit near them. Even if he was a Gryffindor.

'Ha, salopes!' she mentally cheers, feeling as if there was some form of cosmic justice in the world. A few seconds go by before she realizes that Harry is still waiting on an answer from her. "Ohh ohh oui, of course 'Arry of course. 'Elp yourself" she says, motioning towards the table across from her, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

He doesn't seem to notice and sits down, his book instantly on the table and opened. She can't help the frown that instantly appears on her face. She didn't realize he had had a book upon seeing him. 'of course. 'Arry didn't come to talk to you. Doesn't even know you. 'E came to study' she says, her inner monologue leading to her feeling rather put out. Her she was, sitting across from the man she wanted and she couldn't bring herself to say anything. But, he did look rather upset. She could see it in his eyes. The way he reread the page he was on over and over. She could tell he wasn't focusing, and due to him not looking at her she could tell it wasn't because of her.

She didn't want him to turn into his brother, or any of the other men at this school, but it would have been nice for her to think that her presence led to his inability to focus.

The silence carried on for a few minutes until Victoire couldn't stand it anymore. "Is..somezing wrong 'Arry?" She asks simply, deciding to be bold and reach her hand across the table. Not to take his or make contact, but to subtly offer it if he so desired. The thought of him placing his hand on hers, gently rubbing her skin before interlocking their fingers pops into her mind and she can't even begin to fight the blush that spreads across her cheeks.

Her fantasy remains a fantasy though, at least for the moment, as the messy haired youth looks up in puzzlement. "How do you know my name?" He asks, curiosity present in his voice. She panics and her eyes remain locked onto his, hoping that she could hide it from him. "Ohh, Poppy Pomfrey was talking about you" she says simply and dismissively, waving her other hand as if his name was no matter at all to her. It was though. Very important. And soon? She'd have part of it for her last name.

"Ohh, well, that makes sense. I just feel sorry we haven't been introduced. Although you seem familiar" he says, his eyes squinting as he tried to place her.

This was the first time in her life that Victoire Rousseau wanted to be remembered for her excessive beauty. At the very least it would've led to Harry remembering her, when she asked him and Fleamont for their plate of croissants. It angered her a bit. Did Harry not think she was pretty? Impossible. But this also presented an opportunity. Harry would be able to know her. Fall for her, and not her looks. Still...it hurt that he didn't remember.

"We met ze ozzer night. Ze croissants?" She asks, a smile playing at the corner of her lips despite the fact that she was decidedly unhappy with the turn of events. 'You will remember me 'Arry Potter. Soon, I will be all you can think about' she says, mentally continuing her hidden monologue with the boy.

It takes a moment but it finally hits him. "Ohh yes, please forgive me. Rather rude to forget. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Harry Potter" he says, reaching out his hand. She doesn't hesitate to take it, her digits being pleasantly lost in his light grip. The warmth is too much for her to bear and it only gets worse when he takes her hand and presses it to his lips, a usual gentlemanly greeting. It takes all her energy to not leap across the table and find out how his lips would feel against hers.

He releases it and she feels the absence keenly. If only she could find a way to get more contact without scaring him off.

"Victoire Rousseau" she says in response, the smile now enveloping the entirety of her mouth. "It's a pleasure to meet you".

"Likewise" he responds, a light smile on his lips before it disappears and he closes the book, his mind obviously returning to whatever had him in a sullen mood. "I may repeat ze question. Are you alright Monsieur Potter?" She asks, genuine concern in her voice. "Just Harry is fine and...well yes. I suppose but...I'm just not sure…" he says, as if he was ignorant of where to go from that point in the conversation. "Okay, 'arry, what are you not sure of?" She asks, practically purring out his name.

'Calm it down, he'll notice' she hisses mentally to herself. But Harry is to absorbed in his mental conundrum to notice the woman's flirting. Eventually he just sighs and puts his head in his hands. "I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this but, I'm in love with a girl" he says, not noticing the inner turmoil that had caused within the woman across from him. "And...well I think she likes me back so I naturally asked if we could be...well together. I was told no. That I need to really know that I care for her. And I do. Wholeheartedly. But I can tell she's not ready. A man, or rather an insect posing as a man, hurt her rather badly and I understand why she is hesitant. She's worth waiting for" he says, coming to and end of his problems with Minerva.

His frown deepens. "But there's another girl. A girl I've known for a long time. Been best friends with. She comes out of nowhere and tells me that she's in love with me and that I have no choice in the matter and I just don't know what to do. I love Minerva, but while I've always seen Ingrid as a friend part of me must be considering how it would be to be with hervp" he says before wincing. "I didn't tell you their names did I?" he asks, leading to Victoire giggling. She couldn't help it. He was too cute to her.

"No you did not. But I assume ze women in question are Minerva McGonagall and one of ze Durmstrang students no?" she asks, gently reaching across to rub along Harry's arm. "Well, yes, how did you know that? Well...nevermind. You must've known I'd been to Durmstrang and maybe you'd seen me with Minerva" he says, deducing his own version of how she came to know what she knew.

"Zat, oui, also, my friend is ze biggest gossip in ze school" she says, smirking as she leans in conspiratorially. She begins to channel some of her Veela allure, not enough to reduce Harry's mental state, but just enough to apart some more than normal attraction. It appears to be working as Harry blushes and averts his eyes. "Well, I suppose so. But what do you think I should do? Minerva wants me to see other girls. But I don't want that. I just want her. I know this is strange but, what do I do about that? And about Ingrid?"

She begins to think, her hand still on Harry's arm. This has presented a good opportunity. She knew in her heart, knew, that in any long-term competition she'd win against the Gryffindor Prefect or the Durmstrang student whom she could only assume to be one Ingrid Greyback. A werewolf. Interesting. She realized that she needed to be careful. Werewolves were known, especially females, to be very territorial over their mates. She knew she could fight the woman, but didn't want it to come to that. No. A Napoleon she was not. A Machiavelli though? That was more her style.

She hated to hear that Harry was so conflicted about other women, but she could use that to her advantage.

"I zink you should do as Minerva says Harry" she says, a teasing smile on her lips as she leans back and slowly licks them. Harry's eyes are drawn to the motion, inexplicably following it as if it was the most important thing in the world. "What?" He asks, snapping out of it. "Zink about it. Would not Minerva he jealous if she saw you wiz anozzer girl? One look at that and she will come running to you, making it much easier wiz your friend Ingrid too as you will be taken non?"

She hated tricking him. Deceiving. It's underhanded and not at all how she wanted to ensnare her mate. It was the only way forward though. She couldn't say "forget those ozers and be wiz me. I will make you happy" like she wanted to. She couldn't tell the truth. It wouldn't work. Instead? Deception. She'd convince him to "date" her under the pretense of making Minerva jealous all the while she would be a perfect girlfriend to him at all times, convincing him to stay with her. It was foolproof and after all she would tell him, eventually. When it was safe. Perhaps on a Christmas day when she was laying on his chest, waiting for the sun to rise and their children to come down to unwrap their toys.

She'd tell him then and he'd laugh and praise and thank her for such a devious ploy. Hold her and kiss her. She shook these thoughts away. It was not yet time. Soon however.

"That..well, it seems a little underhanded don't you think?" He asks her to which she shrugs her shoulders and throws her hair back in a rather seductive way if you asked Harry. "Oui. But all is fair in love and war is it not?" she says, the same lilting smile on her face. "And it will only be until she accepts to be your girlfriend and intended non?" She says, inwardly reminding herself that it wouldn't get to that. She was convinced that the mousey Gryffindor would shrink into herself and concede her defeat. After all, she'd handed the victory to her on a silver platter.

"Well I suppose. But where would I even find a girl willing to go along with it? I won't just use a girl and hurt her" he says causing Victoire to smile at him sweetly. He was noble. Another thing that Victoire loved about Harry Potter. "Easy. I will" she says simply causing Harry to go wide eyed. "You? But...well why?" He asks, almost shyly. He felt completely out of his league when it came to this woman, and he couldn't exactly tell you why.

"I am bored. And it would be interesting. Aside from that..I find you rather cute" she says, teasingly reaching out to caress the side of his face with her finger. He doesn't flinch away, her allure working at double strength to keep him there as she rubs his face.

"H..h..how do we start?" He asks with a stutter, apparently not questioning her motives.

"Also easy. Wiz gossip. And zere are prime gossipers in ze room now" she says, motioning quietly with her head to the Slytherins who watch with rapt attention. Harry is about to turn to look when his movement is cut off completely, Victoire having pushed herself up and out of her seat and practically onto the table as she pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes. Harry remained aware for only a few seconds more, seeing the Slytherins obviously aghast at the turn of events.

Another second though and he doesn't care. He kisses back Victoire and stands himself, pulling her body across the table by wrapping around her midsection. She was lithe and eagerly moved towards him.

Word spread fast about the castle. Not as fast as if Poppy Pomfrey had seen it, but fast enough.


	6. Chapter 6

Minerva tried to hold in her anger. She really did. But for a scotswoman, and especially for this specific scotswoman, it was indeed a very hard thing to do. Especially as she watched the French blonde practically drape herself over Harry.

The grip on her fork starts to hurt her, not much, but enough to attract the attention of Augusta,who sat next to her and winced as she watched her friend. "Minnie? Are you okay?" she asks, quietly, almost as if she was afraid of her friend's ire being turned on her. Minerva's head snaps to the left, the anger in her eyes dissipating as she sees her fearful friend. She exhales a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding before putting down the fork. "No. I'm not. But I can't really be angry. It wouldn't be fair. Especially not to Harry" she says.

Even when she didn't get her way she had to be logical and if absolving the offending party of any guilt was the only logical path then she would take it.

She'd been over the moon the previous day. Of course, she'd had to turn down Harry's proposal that they become an item but to her mind that was all completely temporary. She'd give it another week at most. They'd continue to date and he'd ask her again. She'd pretend to mull it over, wanting to savor the look of eager anticipation on Harry's face before consenting. She didn't expect the cog in the machine that would come in the form of the French veela. And she was a veela. It was known throughout the school at this point that Harry Potter had a veela lusting after him, pushing the old news of him and Minerva into the background.

She'd been on her way from the library when she'd heard the news. A gaggle of girls were standing around, giggling to one another outside of Binn's history class. She would've kept on going if it hadn't been for the name that she picked out from the conversation. "Harry Potter? Really? With the Veela?"

She stopped, but kept up her pace wanting to appear to be uninterested in the conversation before she stopped at a window overlooking the courtyard, pretending to studying the Whomping Willow. "I saw her. Clear as day. She kissed him. Right in the library. Where does that French whore get off?" one, apparently indignant student asked. "Apparently in Potter's bed" another says. This sentence causes universal disdain amongst the group and a seething anger in Minerva's chest. She quickly walked away from the group, fuming at Harry Potter's mistreatment of her. She wouldn't be made a fool of. Not again. This wouldn't be another Malfoy incident.

She fully intended to find Harry and hex him into the next century. Apparently he was easy to find. Sitting in the library, hidden amongst the stacks with a blonde nestled into his arms. "Harry James Potter!" She whispered, being fearful of the very strict librarian. Her wand was out, pointed at the bespeckled youth, who's said spectacles were asleep, apparently being knocked out of place by a session of heavy snogging. His hands were instantly up. "Minnie.." he says, the simple act of saying her name almost enough to disarm her. She didn't want him to look sorry. She wanted him to sneer and mock her like Abraxas. It would have made it easier to hex him to the moon and back. She falters, but her wand stays up.

His salvation comes from the last place she expects it too. Victoire steps out from his arms and in front of the irate witch, smiling cheerfully. "You must be ze famous Minerva McGonogall. 'Arry has told me so much about you" she said, extending her hand past herself towards Minerva. The Scottish witch is shocked and almost has to shake herself awake, convinced she was dreaming. She'd caught them! Red handed! And here was this woman introducing herself?

"Well, umm yes, how do you do?" she asks, the courtly niceties and natural good nature instilled in her due to her upbringing coming to her forefront. Her wand doesn't move, at least not on its own accord, until the blonde reached her hand up and lowered it, receiving no resistance from Minerva. Her hand suddenly clasps Minerva's free hand and shakes it, her smile still plastered on her face. "So, you are ze competition oui?" She asks teasingly.

"Competition? Wait? Harry has spoken about me?" she asks, remembering the woman's original statement. "Ohh oui. All the time. It is infuriating. Minerva is so smart, so cute so this, so zat" Victoire says, planting a scowl that wasn't all that false on her face before shaking it away. "If 'e wasn't so passionate and loving wiz me I'd zink I had no chance. And oui. Competition. Do we both not want 'Arry for our own?" She asks, as if this was the most obvious statement to make in the whole world.

A feeling settles in Minerva's gut, writhing around like a snake. She looks over the blonde's shoulder at Harry who is blushing heavily. He turns to Minerva and opens his mouth, wanting to begin to speak and settle the situation. Victoire doesn't allow him though, instead continuing on with her own train of thought. " 'Arry told me of how he asked you to be his girlfriend and zat you said no for ze time being. Zat you wanted 'im to see ozzer girls and really know 'ow he felt about you. So, 'e told me of how upset 'e was and I told 'im that it wasn't right of you to turn down 'is proposal if you were interested. I told 'im I was very interested and wouldn't turn down such a proposal" she says, licking her lips and turning back to Harry, leaning in to peck his lips as she does.

The action makes Minerva want to raise her wand again, but this time, she doesn't want to hex Harry. No. She wants to destroy the veela.

Harry returns the kiss, though much less passionately than Victoire kisses him. The anger dies in her and a new feeling takes its place. It makes her want to cry.

The French woman releases Harry with a deliberate slowness and turns to Minerva, a frown on her face. "I asked 'im to be mine. To come back to France wiz me and marry me. But no. Not yet. 'e says 'e loves you too and cannot leave until he knows for certain that you and 'im are meant to be. Plus, I zink he has come to like me very much. It is only a matter of time until 'e realizes who is best for him non?" She asks, batting her eyelids at him. He smiles down at her and then looks away as if he was embarrassed by the woman's doting. Minerva could tell he was both attracted to and embarrassed by it. They were not mutually exclusive.

The words seem to strike a chord with the scotswoman and she nods. "I see. So..you and I are in competition for Harry?" She asks first and foremost, wanting to get to the facts. It was her way. Rampant emotionalism was not something that would have a home in Minerva McGonagall.

"Uhh hmm" Victoire nods quickly, enjoying the angered look on Minerva's face.

"And you think that you are the best woman for him?" She continues with her vein of questioning. She received a quick and emphatic nod in further response.

"Well, let me tell you something Victoire. You couldn't be more wrong if you had physically attempted to be wrong" she says, moving closer until she is almost now to nose with the blonde. Victoire is thrown off but quickly maintains a fierce composure of her own. It isn't a match for the scots but it also promises violence. "Harry will be staying in England with me. The only purpose you serve in being near him is to provide physical proof that he belongs to me. He will not even think about France as any more of a place he is happy he never went to. Do you understand? No skinny french bimbo is going to take what's mine" she says finishing with a scowl.

"Watch me" Victoire says simply in response.

Minerva turns to Harry and smiles. "Ohh don't look so glum Harry. You're not in trouble. Not at all, though it does surprise me that you could possibly see anything in this...trollop" she says, glaring at the blonde before returning to Harry. It was amazing to Harry how Minerva's lips could so easily shift between a thin line that communicates utter disdain to full and sensuous, communicating a desire to be smothered by his own. She walks up, pushing Victoire to the side, ignoring her Huf of displeasure as she wraps her arms around Harry's shoulders and leaned upwards, kissing his lips passionately. Harry feels himself being pushed into the stacks, a few books wobbling but staying in place. Another gasp is heard, and the quiet stamping of a foot follows it.

She releases him, wanting to return to his lips as soon as she does. After a quick breath she does so, though this kiss is much quicker and ends too soon for the man's liking.

"Escort me to Hogsmeade this Saturday. Wear something nice. I hope you enjoy the present I'll be getting you. Call it early Christmas" she says teasingly.

" 'Arry and I will be at ze astronomy tower. I'm afraid you will have to choose anozzer day" comes Victoire's rather triumphant voice from behind, her arms crossed underneath her small but pert breasts. Minerva scowled at her, hating that she was blessed by magic with such beauty. She could only hope that Harry found her attractive enough.

"Then Sunday. It is a Hogsmeade weekend after all and I doubt you'll want to spend another day with this vapid…" she says before biting her tongue. She turns and moves out of the library. "Goodbye Harry" she says, waving over her shoulder and thinking to herself that she hoped her skirt revealed enough of her long legs, covered by stockings, to Harry.

She leaves a dopey smile on Harry's face and a scowl on Victoire who then turns to Harry, and takes his hand. "Let's go to ze lake" she says, all the while thinking, "vapid? Vapid? I shall show 'er who is vapid. I'd rather be vapid zan plain'

 _GRYFFINDOR TABLE_

"Well, I for one am quite surprised you didn't rip his bollocks off" Augusta said before Minnie chastises her. "Language Augusta. And I wouldn't. This...well it isn't the same. I told him to see other girls. It's not his fault that he did what I asked. As far as I'm concerned it's not "him" per say who is doing it. You should see how she hangs on him. How she kisses him" she says, wishing she was still gripping her fork before she calms herself once more.

"She is a veela. We can't discount that. He doesn't exactly drool over her but I have to admit that the French whore is quite a rare beauty". Minerva refused to use her name. It was always a denigration involving her nationality and her lack of couth when it came to being physical openly with Harry. He was the ire of the male population, to have the blonde veela on his arm. He didn't seem to notice. Not did she notice the hateful stares directed at her by the female population.

"Today is when they announce the Triwizard tournament contestants" Augusta says, wanting to get the topic off of Harry Potter and Victoire Rousseau. She saw how resolute her friend was. How willing she was to fight for a man. It was good to see her in such good spirits all things considered but Augusta was worried. What if she couldn't compete? It would do more damage than the Malfoy affair had. Then it was because Malfoy was a ponce. Now? If Minnie lost it would be because she would be considered the "lesser'' woman . Augusta fully thought that Minerva would win. Still, there was the fear for her friend.

"Ohh Auggie, who could think about something like that now? There's so much…"

The hall is quieted as the candles floating overhead dim, a universal sign to the students to pay attention. Their eyes are drawn to the front of the hall and especially to the goblet, having been stationed there since the beginning of the year. Albus Dumbledore, the new headmaster of Hogwarts, stood near it, a smile on his face. "Students, if I could have your attention. It's time to announce the contestants for the upcoming Triwizard tournament" he says, pausing for the chorus of cheers.

As it quiets, the fire blazes brighter, preparing to shoot out one of the pieces of paper with a student's name on it that had been placed inside.

"Without further ado, the first contestant, representing Hogwarts is…."

The goblet spews out a half burned strip of paper, the wind and dead of the hall helping it to fly high into the air before coming down to settle in the headmaster's hand. With a great show of solemnity he unrolls it and quickly blows the flame at its corners out to prevent the entire sheet from going up. It was a rather good joke as magic prevented the flame from spreading. It received a few laughs but most of the headmaster's jokes did.

He seems to notice this and take it in good stride, a twinkling in his eyes as her surveys the room. He reads the slip quickly and smiles, turning to the group of assembled students. "Minerva McGonagall" he shouts, his voice booking about the room before raucous cheers erupt from the Gryffindor table. The cheers that come from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables are much more subdued, but are still there. From the Slytherins come only hisses and jeers.

Minerva sits there at the Gryffindor table, utterly shocked by the turn of events. It takes a few moments until her roommates begin to push her up, gesturing and shouting for her to go to the room where the chosen champions were to assemble. "Minerva! Oh my word you're the champion!" Augusta shouts, helping the mass of girls in pulling the girl up from her seat. She is shocked. Utterly shocked. She was the champion? She looks about, her legs working of their own accord as they do what she is incapable of doing herself. She looks about, her eyes settling on the smiling headmaster who claps politely before finding Harry down the row. She passes right by him, and this time there is no Victoire on his arm. She is stuck over at the Ravenclaw table, scowling.

He smiles at her directly and claps, seemingly the loudest. His smile is contagious and she blushes at how his eyes locked onto hers. It suddenly occurred to her that this was a golden opportunity for many things.

To set herself out amongst her peers, to conquer a challenge and to bring glory to Hogwarts in the international wizarding world.

It was also a golden opportunity to show Harry just how suitable a wife she'd make.

With an eager heart and a pep in her step, Minerva walks through the door to the right of the dining area and into the dark waiting room.


	7. Chapter 7

"Minnie. A champion. Huh. I never thought she'd get picked, though I suppose I knew there was a chance" says the astonished voice of Fleamont Potter from his position alongside his brother. He didn't receive a response and he turned to try and re engage his brother only to find his green eyes locked on the door that the Hogwarts champion had disappeared through.

"Harry? Harry? Harry!" He finally shouts, snapping the young man back into the realm of the living. "Ohh, uhh, sorry Flea. I was...well" he begins before stopping upon seeing his brothers smirking face. "Oh I know what you were doing. Ogling Minerva" he says before he frowns and shakes his head side to side. "Harry, this whole thing, with Victoire and Ingrid and Minerva, it isn't good. Hell, the thing with Victoire should have never went forward and with Ingrid in the mix?" He says, casting a suspicious eye towards the Slytherin table.

"Minnie doesn't even know about her does she?" he asks, following up his initial statements. Although, from the look on his face he already knew the answer. Harry just looks away and sighs. "I know, I know but look, this whole thing with Victoire? I didn't have a choice. She kissed me and before I bloody well knew it the rumor that I was marrying a veela was spreading around the school. And aside from that, it's all fake. Victoire is the one who came up with the plan. I'm really only doing this because she said it would be a good way to get Minnie to say yes to us being a couple and you know how bollocks I am with women. I needed a woman's help" he says, justifying the whole situation within his mind. It didn't work.

And neither did Fleamont's worried expression. After the two brothers made up, as they always have, Harry had told him everything. The date with Minnie, Ingrid's confession and Victoire's plan. Three gorgeous women all vying for him, though according to Harry, Victoire wasn't after him. Just wanting to help a friend.

"I don't buy the idea that she isn't interested in you Harry" Fleamont says, quietly, trying not to be overheard by Agnes Weasley who sat directly down from them on their right. The general celebration of the dining hall also helped as nobody seemed overly interested in the Potter brothers or their conversation.

"Who?" he asks, distractedly, having turned back to look at the door Minerva had exited through. "Victoire" Fleamont says, as it was rather obvious who he'd be speaking about. He shakes his head involuntarily. "I've been watching her, not like that!" He says, quickly correcting himself as Harry turns to gaze at home, an eyebrow upturned in amusement. "I'd know if you were watching her "like that". After all, all the drool would give it away" he says with a chuckle which caused Fleamont to punch him lightly on the shoulder. "Oww" Harry says, rubbing the spot on his arm instantly.

"Anyways, that's not what I meant. I've been watching her, watching you, that is when she doesn't glue herself to you. Today for example, she spent all of breakfast smiling at you, and in potions, which I share with some of the Ravenclaws and Beauxbatons, I caught her scribbling something in her book. I couldn't read it, it was in French and all, but it had your name and hers within a heart. I remembered the French word and went to Euphenia later" he said, taking a pause to drink some of his pumpkin juice. "Where I very much doubt she taught you any French. Not any French that doesn't involve kissing anyways" Harry says, causing his brother to gulp, fighting the impulse to spit out his drink. He swallows it, though it's clear the action was a lot harder to accomplish than usual.

He wipes his lips with the back of his hand, trying to hold in his laughter still. "Yes but not the point. Bloody hell Harry that was unfair. Don't tell mother or father though. They were both rather stern with me when they said not to go beyond a chaste kiss with Euphenia" he says before Harry rolled his eyes and picks at some of his food, waiting for the calling of the next champion. "Father didn't really mean that. Only said that for the benefit of mother" he said simply as he slid some potatoes onto his fork and moved the utensil to his mouth.

"The word was forever, by the way. The one Victoire wrote under your names. The word in between being "and" though that should've been simple enough to figure out" he says before shrugging. "She's after you too mate. You can't say that all the times she pulls you in for a kiss are for dramatic effect can you?" He asks causing Harry to think.

His thoughts turn to an unpleasant place. What if it was true? That Victoire really was now vying for him. That all her talk of being bored and just wanting to help him was a ruse. He didn't know her that well. He couldn't reasonably say that she wouldn't lie to be totally fair, he did sometimes feel as if she was overplaying it. It was all too much to think on and he finds himself looking up, his eyes inexplicably drawn to the Ravenclaw table and to a certain blonde who was already looking at him. Her hand goes up and waves at him, gently, the soft and almost pure white skin moving from side to side. Her face was lit up by a smile and her blue eyes, deep pools of the lightest shade, almost like a carribean sea, filled with joy and mischievousness, bored into his, as if they were probing for information. He finds himself smiling back and waving himself.

No. There was no way Victoire would lie to him. She was too sweet and too caring. She probably just wanted to help Harry because of how pathetic he looked. That was it. Victoire was a really good friend. Nothing more. What Flea saw was obviously just something she was doing to further their scheme. In fact, Flea seeing it might have been part of it all along. Victoire was smart along those lines, always seeing what was the best choice to move forward. After all, she'd gotten Minerva to become territorial, which she assured him, was a good sign that she'd soon be willing to go steady with him.

He had to take her word for it at the time but after Minerva kissed him in the library he knew that their closeness was doing something.

He sweeps his eyes out over the hall again and finds himself drawn to the Slytherin table. Naturally all seemed to be upset that one of their own wasn't chosen to represent Hogwarts, though they hid it well under a thin veneer of haughtiness that they seemed to think propelled them above the other unwashed masses of Hogwarts. Intermixed in between the green were a few more severe looking students, mostly males, but a few women as well. It didn't take long to find her. His eyes land on Ingrid who was also apparently already looking at him. A light smile played about on her lips, not wide or open as was usual for her. Her eyes, a dark brown, were filled with a sadness he couldn't stand to see on his friend. She raised her hand gently, as if she expected to be rebuffed and didn't want to be seen making the motion in case of embarrassment. The area around her eyes were red. That disturbed Harry the most.

He'd never seen Ingrid cry.

He smiles himself, sadly and gently, though his mind and thoughts at the moment were fixed on what was shaping up to be a lost friendship. He raises his hand and waves at Ingrid, refusing to ignore her completely. She seems to notice this and her smile grows a little wider, making Harry feel a mixture of apprehension and joy. On one hand, him waving to her had made her a little happier. On the other hand, it most likely stoked her hopes that there might be a chance between the two of them. Undoubtedly she had heard something about Victoire and it couldn't have come easy to her.

Over the past days she'd made a few attempts at reconciliation and seduction following their confrontation in the courtyard. She first came to him during a late night trip to the kitchens where he hoped to pilfer a snack. She'd found him, also having been wandering the halls late at night, and pushed him against the wall, apparently having been just as good at hiding in Hogwarts as she was at Durmstrang. This was different though. They weren't children anymore and they weren't playing a game.

"Are you not done with that silly English girl yet?" She had practically growled into his ear, nestling her face into his clothed chest, nuzzling him. She didn't say much and Harry quickly realized that they were coming up on the full moon. Ingrid looked positively feral, her hair unkempt and mussed, her eyes darker in color yet more luminous at the same, and her teeth sharper. The sheer force that she'd used to pin Harry to the wall frightened him. He'd never experienced this before and with everything going on he wasn't sure what to make of it. What he most certainly wanted at that moment, was to be away from her as harsh as that sounded. He chided himself for not bringing his wand with him, though he doubted he'd be able to use it on Ingrid even if he had.

Her hands, now practically clawed, moved up and down his arms, further pinning him,and she slowly lifted her face and pressed her lips against his. She tasted sweet of course and Harry couldn't help but kiss her back a little before he returned to his senses and pulled away, leading to her growling once more at him. "What am I doing wrong?" she asks, her voice husky and deep but still feminine. "You're scaring me" Harry says, telling the truth without fully showing it. Fear moved up and down his spine at will, as if it was an extension of him. He'd never thought that Ingrid would cause him to be afraid. He wanted away from whoever this was. In his mind this wasn't his friend at the moment. She was a monster, predatory and crushing wanting to devour him.

She seemed to soften, concern and sadness coming into her eyes as she lifted one hand away from his arm, relying on her other and the weight of her body to keep Harry where he was. She slowly begins to rub the side of his face, kissing his chin as she does. "Don't. Don't be afraid of me. Accept me. Please" she asks, almost pleading. A primal transcendental need. It's breaking Harry's heart, and he wishes he could return her feelings. But in a moment Minerva's face comes into his mind and he tries to push the woman back. It doesn't do any good and it is almost as if he's pushing against a brick wall.

"Ingrid, please. It's very late. Let me go" he says, meaning to his room. However, the meaning, the true meaning doesn't dawn on her. She growls and two large canines come into view as her mouth opens wide. "I'll never let you go. You are mine Harry. Mine and mine alone" she says before moving back in to kiss him. Unfortunately, she didn't pay much attention to her trajectory and her teeth rake against Harry's cheek, opening a gash.

He gasped and in the momentary rush of adrenaline brought on by the fear and pain, he pushes her back and rushes out of the hall. Ingrid is left behind, practically sobbing as she reached into the darkness, almost as if she were willing Harry to come back. "Harry, please no. I'm sorry" she whimpers, her feet unwilling or unable to move of her accord.

Instead of Harry returning, his footfalls receded into darkness until they ceased altogether. Only then did her feet move, but not toward Harry as she originally wanted. She knew she couldn't find him. Not that night. No. Instead, she found herself heading back to the lake and the Durmstrang ship, sobbing all the way.

Harry gently raised his own hand and touched the wound. After some slight medical attention, and a lie about how he received the wound, it had begun to heal nicely. But it was still there and would most likely leave a nasty scar on his chin.

"Victoire Rousseau!" Shouts Albus Dumbledore, having obviously received another strip of paper while Harry was distracted. He glanced quickly at Dumbledore before turning his eyes towards the girl in question. She jumps up, ecstatic as the girls around her scowl at her good fortune. Supernatural beauty AND glory, not to mention the chance at winning a financial prize? It did seem rather unfair but at that moment nobody really cared. Beauxbatons' students know who their best shot at winning the tournament lies with, and they clap all the same.

The response from the males of the Hogwarts houses, especially Gryffindor, is much more enthusiastic. Hoots, hollers and whistles followed by a few grunts and oofs as women, upset by the undue attention their partners are showing the blonde veela, elbow them in the side or slap them upside the head.

The cheering quiets down, but remains present as Victoire walks right down the aisle and smiles at Harry. It reminds him of Minerva but almost as soon as he thinks that, Victoire goes and ups the ante so to speak. She blows a kiss, which begins to fly straight off of her lips and onto Harry's cheek, leaving a bright red imprint, a perfect rendition of the French woman's lips. As if she had walked over and planted it there herself. It was obvious that she was wearing enchanted lipstick, a rather new and more novel invention of Zonkos. It attracts disdain from the older puritans, mostly within the Slytherin ranks, but cheers and approval from most of the men within Gryffindor who, even though they are jealous of him, still appreciate their dorm mate's good luck.

There are also a few scowls from a few women who obviously disapprove of such open displays of affection and some who look as if they are lost in thought, obviously thinking about the merits of such an approach for themselves.

Harry just sits there, blushing as his hand goes up to the spot where the imprint of Victoire's lips were still on his skin, dangerously close to his mouth. "You still think she's just doing you a favor?" Asks Fleamont, taking a sip of pumpkin juice calmly, before he is also elbowed in the side. The bright orange juice sloshes out of the sides of the goblet and onto his robes.

"Hey!" He shouts, turning to give his brother a piece of his mind. "Shush" comes a harsh sound from his right where one Agnes Weasley had her finger to her lips. "Stop being ponces. I want to know who's representing Durmstrang" she says before a snicker behind her interrupts her chastisement. "Hoping it's Krum?"

"Ingrid Greyback!" comes Albus Dumbledore's booming voice for the third and last time as the goblet's fire dims, almost to the point of being snuffed, having finished its job.

Harry looks up just in time to see his friend walking across the front of the hall, having had to cross all the way from the far right side of the hall at the Slytherin side. She didn't have a chance to walk by him, but he could tell that she wanted to.

She smiled at him, a radiant smile that hid something more than just being happy about being chosen as the champion for Durmstrang. But there was a mark of annoyance maring her beautiful face. It was well hidden but he noticed that she was looking at his cheek, just a bit lower than his eyes. 'What? Is there something on my….ohh' he thinks to himself, remembering the kiss that Victoire had blown him.

Before he could think about the issue any longer, Ingrid disappears through the oak doors, joining Minerva and Victoire.

"Must be an interesting conversation going on behind those doors hmm?" teases Fleamont, who doesn't even receive a look this time, Harry being so lost in his own thoughts.

"Ahh cheer up Harry. Think of it this way. Mom and dad have been putting the pressure on you to get married. You were putting it off so long they were starting to think you were a little….off" he says teasingly, receiving a glare from his brother. "But now? Three girls, all from rich and powerful families, are going to be competing for you. Mom'll be over the moon. Dad will congratulate you on being the first man to turn the Triwizard tournament into a cat fight. What could go wrong?"

( _Hey all. Just restarted this sorry. I apologize for all the typos in previous chapters. I was just really invested in getting some more out you know? But if you want to continue reading this please let me know what you think. I really want to hear some advice, corrections or maybe even suggestions for the story. I have ZERO idea where this is going. Thank you all)_


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